


Broken

by 6Nana9



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hayley’s death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Nana9/pseuds/6Nana9
Summary: Elle finds Hotch at her doorway after all these years, needing a friend.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to their rightful owners.
> 
> There’s rly no meaning to this. Just thought “what if...” and voila w

Never in her life would Elle have imagined of seeing Aaron Hotchner standing in front of her door in the middle of the night. Especially since she left the FBI. She considered how he found her all the way in New York, but she reckoned that he asked Garcia to track her down

He wasn’t from work, she knew. He was wearing his khaki sweat jacket instead of his signature suit and tie. He seemed exhausted. Extremely so. The bags under his eyes seemed worse than she remembered and he looked as if he had gained many years. More than he should have in a short amount of time. She noticed how his posture was slightly hunched and how he shuffled on his feet, an unbecoming behaviour from him.

“Jack’s staying with his aunt.” He uttered. “I... I need to talk.”

There was a feeling of fear that nagged her when he showed up, fear that he came to talk about her actions from three years ago. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. However, there was something in his eyes that told her he was here to talk about anything but that.

“I... I killed him. George Foyet. I killed him.”

She recalled the name from the news. The Boston Reaper. An escaped serial killer. The BAU was handling the case, of course. However, what did he mean by kill? And why would he come find her to tell her this?

“...Come in.”

He sat on the living room couch and Elle took her seat beside him, a hot cup of earl grey served for the both of them. He thanked her, but never took a sip. He merely stared at the cup, at his reflection that stared back at him. He never said a word and only rubbed his thumbs together. Occasionally, he would glance at her and part his lips, but then reconsider, and return to silence.

His body trembled, she noticed, and she wondered what was so bad about killing Foyet? He has killed unsubs before. Why would he feel troubled over it now?

“Did you shoot him?”

He looked at her, and shook his head. She hummed as a response, getting a vague picture of what happened.

“I beat him to death, Elle. ” He confessed. “I punched him. I smashed his head into the floor. He killed Hayley, so I killed him.”

“I see.”

“I could’ve stopped once he was immobilised but I didn’t. I was angry. I continued to hit him even when he stopped breathing. If Morgan didn’t stop me, I... I don’t think I would’ve stopped.”

Elle quietly sipped at her tea, her eyes fixed on the tormented man in front of her. The man that reprimanded her when she too took the law in her own hands. It was ironic. But understandable. Perhaps that was why he came to find her. He wanted someone who could understand how he felt, who could tell him that what he did could be forgiven. Someone who could tell him it was okay.

She placed her cup down on the coffee table and inched closer. She gauged his expression, checking if he allowed her to come any closer, and when he seemed to show no discomfort, she placed her hand on his with a tight squeeze. Her other hand was on his shoulder, rubbing against the fabric of his jacket as a consoling gesture.

“I’m sorry for what happened, Hotch.” She uttered, the familiar nickname rolling off her tongue after years. “But it’s going to be fine.  You ’ re going to be fine. ”

Tears welled up in his tired eyes as he nodded, and returned the hold on his hand. It felt a little desperate, and a little afraid.  Since when did Aaron Hotchner seem so vulnerable?

“Do you want something to drink?” She offered gently. “Bourbon, or Scotch, maybe?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just... stay. Please.”

“...Alright.”

So she stayed with him the entire night. She let him grieve over the loss of his wife, the sin that he committed. She let him pour his emotions in the safety of her apartment walls. Elle didn’t say anything the entire time, merely rubbing soothing circles on his back as she held him in a half embrace, her hand still with his. It felt odd, being in such close proximity as him. However, it was the least consolation she could offer him at the moment as a friend.

He needed her. Now more than ever. So, she would be there for him. That was all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading !


End file.
